


Bathed in Scarlet

by stripedshortie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Depression, Gen, Loki-centric, Self-Harm, Suicidal Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3432488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stripedshortie/pseuds/stripedshortie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has suffered long, and now lives on Midgard. He has fallen quite far from the status of controlling an army of Chitauri. So much, that the Avengers find him bleeding out in an apartment bathroom, from where revelations are made about the graceless prince, and the so called 'advanced' Asgardians. (Post-TWS)<br/>(abandoned)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost

At this point, it was habit.  
The cutting.  
The slicing of his own skin, crying softly at his sorrows and he relieving them with a blade. Some days it was more out of a unrelenting crave for blood he needed. Yes, as much as Loki devilishly enjoyed the pain of others, it was his he relished in most of all.  
A million times over he had wished the All-Father Odin had left him on that frozen rock of a planet to die, as a newborn infant, than to live through this Hel that tore at his flesh. The Norns were cruel in that way. So, terribly cruel, that for events to succeed each other, the God of Mischief was meant to lose his heart, for him to suffer through each passing day, wanting to become completely numb and to rejoin with his daughter.  
Which he would've, had his suicide attempt on the Bifrost succeeded, instead of placing him in the hands of Thanos, who in turn, gave him to the Chitauri.  
The attack on Manhattan was a short reprieve, one that Loki-although persuaded, and mind bent to concede with this-delighted in.  
Though for months afterward, he had woken up from many a nightmare to scream, and weep at the many lives taken, to know how awful he really was.  
Loki did revel in the misery of others, but there was a very quiet conscience that cried out whenever it saw that the god had hurt yet another soul, and grabbed his heart to gather his attention. He would notice, but pushed back his acknowledgement, wanting to make himself believe this was only fate coming to hurt him again.  
Right now, he sits in an apartment bathroom leaning against the tub. Hateful crimson and pale lines make their way up his forearms, new and faded, the ones made tonight currently shallow. The trickster worries he will not be able to hold back, and would nearly be unconscious again. He was on Midgard, where he had been sent off, after the stress of impersonating Odin had finally taken it's toll, and he had come clean to Thor.  
The look of anguish and worse, pity, and loss of his brother on the Thunderer's face sent shocks of pain into Loki's heart every time. Thor had believed his brother dead twice over, now to be revealed in the most awful way.  
"What use is my existence?" the figure with raven hair whispers to himself, as his voice is now hoarse. "Odin's purpose for me is gone now. I have no purpose but to cause pain with murder and lies." Loki's voice shakes, tears going against his wishes and down his cheeks.  
He is still scared of the blade. Loki has to force himself to make those lines crossed along his wrist.  
Other ways are easier. Burning is quick, but it reminds him too much of the Chitauri. The ones who had convinced him to kill those of Earth, who promised him freedom from their torture if he was triumphant.  
He is afraid of fire. How far has the god of flames fallen?  
The shame causes him to bring the knife across his skin. A cry pushes it's way past his lips, and he berates himself; the neighbours will hear.  
It was deeper, Loki makes a note to take it easier, but knows that he won't.  
He deserves this.  
This knife had been gifted to him by his brother when they were young, and he laughs bitterly when he thinks of his naive self. How happy he had been when Thor brought it from one of the other countries on Asgard. For days afterward, he had admired it's ornate blade, the handle curving to fit his hand, a dark green ore making up the hilt. Runes went up it's sides, some spells forbidding it to hurt the owner, only the enemy.  
Those runes were scratched out.  
How disgusting it was; that a relic from his past was used for this purpose. Only another reason he didn't deserve any kindness, he would merely warp it into something awful.  
His hands shake as he moves the steel nearer to the crook of his elbow. The skin is beckoning him, but his eyes hold fear. His bare chest pales in the fluorescent light. Loki grits his teeth. Why was he always so damn afraid? As stupid as Thor once was, flinging himself into battle, he was never truly afraid. A trait Loki had always hoped to gain, to show Odin that he was worthy of being king.  
It was a fact he had startlingly accepted in his time masquerading as Odin. Thor was changed. No longer the warmongering brute he had followed into Jotunheim, the prince of Asgard had humbled. Spite fills Loki's chest. After all his time trying to tame Thor, one short banishment to Earth made the golden son become reasoning. That damn woman had done in a few days what Loki had been hopelessly tiring at for centuries.  
That was a lie. Loki loved mischief, and toying with Thor was paradise. It didn't mean he hadn't tried. Thor had so much potential in his mind, he wanted to show him it was useful. Thor didn't listen, kept his intelligence under wraps of bloodstained battles.  
Loki kept his bloodstained skin under long sleeves.  
If he could even _bring the damn knife to his skin, the stupid wretch._ He was sick of his cowardice.  
A trickster brought a blade to his forearm.  
Swift movement causes him to cry out, it was too deep, _shit, i'm going to pass out._ The world tilts and comes closer to him in black and bright.  
As he tries to hold on, the world dims.


	2. Found

"Director! We've got a reading on Loki." One of the tech workers on the bridge of the Heiicarrier calls to Nick Fury.  
The director advances over, his one eye analyzing the screen. "It looks like a pretty strong one too. Can we get a location?"  
"With this high of a reading, yes. Agent Daviau, start pinpointing the source."  
"Already on it." The woman next to the first agent begins typing commands into the computer, pulling up a map as all the possible locations are calibrated. A point on the map starts pulsing.  
"An apartment?" Though he doesn't show it, Fury was perplexed.  
Daviau speaks again. "Yes, director. Odd that he would still be in New York…"  
Director Fury walks to the middle of the bridge. "Have Agent Hill contact the Avengers. Tell them that they will be briefed on arrival."

~

Loki was trying his hardest to stem the flow of blood, but his semi-conscious state was not helping. Already, he had slipped under twice, the blow to his head thickening the flow of thoughts. It was taking his entire capacity of seidr to keep him alive.

~

"You're kidding me."  
"No, Barton. We found him, his magic was being used at a very strong rate."  
"I don't doubt that, I just don't understand why _we_ have to go after him. Can't some S.H.I.E.L.D agents get him?"  
Agent Hill sighs. "We understand that you are still recovering, but you are the only team that has been able to bring him down."  
Clint scoffs. "That was the Hulk."  
"In any case, we are sending you all in."  
Tony groans from a chair in the back of the room. Natasha strides up to Clint from her spot leaning on the wall and places a hand on his shoulder.  
She turns her head to Maria. "We'll go. Though, where is Thor and Dr. Banner?"  
"Thor is still on Asgard, and Dr. Banner is at Stark Tower. It doesn't matter, you all have to go bring him into custody. Captain Rogers?"  
Steve inclines his head toward her. "We'll be back within two hours."  
"Fucking hell, I was just about to go to sleep before you assholes called me in."  
Hill rolls her eyes."Stark, you were drinking."  
"Damn it. I have to find a way to disable that security system."

~

Loki was truly afraid now. There was no possible way he was going to stay alive.

~

As the Helicarrier nears the complex where Loki was staying, Tony comes in over the intercom from his suit.  
"So the high-and-mighty god, that grabbed me by the throat and threw me out my own window, is living in a shitty apartment?"  
"Quiet Tony." Steve is short with him. He has a sinking feeling he associates with Loki being an enormous threat.  
Natasha holds a pistol in her right hand and the device displaying the readings in her left.  
"Loki should be two floors down from the roof, two doors to the left."  
Clint stands beside her, readying his weapon. "Got it."  
"You're right beside me Clint, I'd expect you to hear."  
Mumbling, Barton busies himself with double-checking his arrows.  
"I'm on the roof, I'll just wait for you guys whenever you feel like finishing up." Stark sounds bored out of his mind.  
"Be there in fifteen seconds." Steve prepares himself to jump from the lowering ramp of the aircraft.  
He lands on the roof with ease.  
Tony laughs. "Show off."  
"Come on, be serious about this."  
Natasha and the archer drop down with parachutes, Romanoff gracefully landing and Clint almost falling over.  
"What the hell?" Tony asks Barton.  
"I don't have a suit like you Tony, it's dark as fuck."  
Steve has to push down the laugh that almost surfaces. "Alright, let's head in."  
They make their way through the access stairway to the top floor.  
"You said two floors down right?"  
"Clint, you were right beside me, and clarified that you heard. But yeah, two floors down."  
"I wanted to make su-"  
Steve hushes them. "Guys, there are other people here, I'd guess most of them don't want to be woken up to find out that Loki, the person responsible for destruction of half of the city, is living a floor below."  
"Stark is wearing an entire suit of armor. That would wake up the entire building."  
Natasha flashes a warning glare at him.  
"Ugh. Fine."  
The team makes their way to the elevator, which looks broken and menacing.  
Tony looks at the door with a warying glance. "Should we just take the stairs?" Upon remembering how well the suit works on stairs, he changes his mind. "Okay, we're gonna take our chances with the elevator."  
Barton presses the button.  
Nothing happens.  
"Cap, why don't you open it? See if there's actually anything there." Clint steps back from the rusted metal doors to let Rogers through.  
He pries them open, to find-  
"It's empty." Tony makes plain.  
"Obviously." Natasha says blankly.  
"We're going to have to take the stairs. Tony, is that the briefcase version of your suit?"  
There's a moment of silence, before Tony whispers, "Jesus Christ."

~

A god lays unconscious in a fluorescently lit bathroom.

~

"Once, we get in there, we have to be quiet as we search the place." Steve says, barely audibly.  
The rest of them nod.  
Breaking the locked door knob, they file inside, already on the defensive. Steve motions for Natasha to check on the right, where two doors sit.  
Clint monitors the living room, which is part of the kitchen.  
Tony, suited up again, checks the small kitchen.  
Cap walks over to the right side with Romanoff, who enters what must be the bedroom, Steve noticing the light under the second door.  
Bracing himself, he opens the door swiftly.  
He couldn't have braced for this.  
The light blinds him, sparing him from the sight he is about to witness.  
It doesn't even register at the first few moments.  
What lies before him can't be real.  
Loki lies in a small pool of scarlet, his arms lined with bitter lines.  
He is too pale.  
"No… Natasha!" Steve leans against the door frame, feeling lightheaded.  
She rushes to his side, stilling when she sees the figure on the ground.  
Romanoff brings a hand to her ear, speaking into her earpiece.  
"Get a med-team down here."

~

What was present of the Avengers sat on the small couch in the apartment, each trying to regain their thoughts.  
Steve can't make sense of any of it.  
Natasha struggles to keep calm.  
Clint feels conflicted emotions.  
Tony is sick.  
The medical team had gotten the room very quickly, on account of thinking one of them was hurt. They were dismayed to find that they would have to keep a homicidal villain alive.  
Rogers can't get the sight of the god out of his head. It wasn't just the fact that Loki was slowly dying, but the disturbing detail that-  
He looked peaceful.  
It's an awful thought, he knows, but Loki always appeared angry and seething, seeing him in such an unguarded state was off-putting. With no strain on his face, he seemed completely different.  
Natasha keeps herself composed by keeping an eye on the medics. No doubt some people at S.H.I.E.L.D would love to exact revenge on Loki.  
She tries to match this sight of him with the one of being threatened, belitted if the mischief god had gotten his way. The pieces don't fit. Loki had been so narcissistic that it was sickeningly unhealthy.  
Clint flickers between emotions, without understanding where they come from.  
Hate. Shouldn't he hate Loki?  
Becoming more surly with each passing second, he realizes he feels sorry for him. It makes him angry, because this is the guy who toyed with his mind and caused him to kill people.  
People he knew.  
If Natasha hadn't been so skilled, he might've killed her too.  
"I have to go. This is pissing me off."  
No one objects as he quickly leaves the room.  
Tony wants to curl up in a little ball and drink. Every time he sees someone in a state like that, a country an ocean away comes into memory, of a man named Yinsen. Sitting in a vehicle about to be decorated with bullets, dead soldiers protecting him. Because he had created a weapon capable of immense death, he caused innocent people to die.  
Though Loki must have been through a different brand of hell to do _that._

~

Loki's vision dips in ink and out again.  
Where was he again?  
Shapes move around him, and he tries desperately to hear the yelling through thick walls that he should be trying to get away, but he feels so drained.  
Is he in the healing rooms at the castle? He can't be, because he can't sense the seidr flowing through him. Loki was in those rooms so often when he was younger...  
The truth hits him with a rebound.  
They found him.  
He wasn't supposed to use his magic during his punishment, if he did so, S.H.I.E.L.D had been given permission to bring him into their custody. Panic courses through his veins like lightning, as he strains to do anything. It worsens when he realizes they are all around him, definitely ready to restrain him if he gives them any trouble.  
"His heart rate is going up quickly."  
"Sedate him, I can't even figure out his damn anatomy. We'll have to bring him back."  
Helpless, he feels so tired after a prick in his right forearm enters the skin. No fighting back this time.


	3. Caught

The world seems a lot heavier than it should be, as Loki's mind begins to rouse its thoughts.  
He has no energy whatsoever.  
Loki wakes to warm lighting and the sharp, piercing scent of antiseptic.  
Where he lies is a cot of some sort, and he takes notice of a periodic beeping.  
How annoying.  
Though, his gut constricts at the sight of a thin tube protruding from his right arm, where it leaks something from a machine into his blood, adding to the marks along his forearm.  
At his wrists his is restrained to the cot.  
He screws his eyes shut in shame. Weakness on his own was one thing to succumb to, but to show it to these mortals?  
Pathetic.  
For the time being, he worries about his situation. What in the name of the Norns are they putting in him?  
His thoughts wander through the worst of possibilities, stopping by chances of poison and paralyzation. It distracts him from chastising himself, since he was so careful, for so long. Months had passed since his-'temporary' probation-was declared by the All-Father. He would rather have his magic restrained, for he was able to use it, but not allowed to. The best option was to lay low.  
Not that he had a choice. Showing his face anywhere in New York meant a death sentence, and finding a place to live in the shady complex was hard enough.  
Due to Loki giving in to his-selfish-wants, his natural seidr tried to save him, and in his impaired state, he had forgotten the terms of his exile and instinctively started recovering himself.  
What he would give, for the liquid dripping itself into his veins, to be the end.  
~  
"You're not seriously going to question him in his state, right?"  
Fury didn't turn around. "Once he is awake enough to start talking, damn right I'm getting info out of him."  
"Sir, with all possible respect, that is completely ridiculous."  
Unfazed, the director's voice resonates again, "You don't have the authority to question that."  
"I know, Director Fury, but I can't help but state what I'm worried about. You know I've never spoken out of line unless I thought it was necessary. Please consider it." Daviau knows she is pushing it, but she was always so soft, and seeing someone in a state like that, even Loki, doesn't put her at ease.  
"I'm sorry Daviau, but this is above your level of clearance."  
"Alright sir. I'll get back to the bridge." With reluctance, she spins on her heel, and clicks her way back to her assigned duties, while she makes sure not one hair of her bun is out of place.  
She still thinks this is an awful idea.  
~  
"Hey, Birdbrain, toss me more scotch?"  
"Fuck you."  
Tony grunts. "You were drinking too."  
"Exactly, I'm saving more for me."  
"I bought that bottle."  
"And you can buy another."  
Natasha groans. "Stop arguing, you idiots. It's getting on my nerves."  
"If your boyfriend wasn't such an asshole, I'd be able to drink until my nerves stop feeling."  
Clint snatches the glass bottle from the cupboard, and jumps over the couch. "Sorry Stark, but that's my plan." He races out of the room, Tony too tired to chase after him.  
"Jarv?"  
"Yes sir?"  
"Lock all doors Hawkeye runs his sorry ass to."  
A moment passes before a small beep is heard, Jarvis speaking right after it. "All doors that Mr. Barton happens to come to, will lock."  
Sitting up from the armchair she had claimed, Natasha grins.  
Tony glares at her.  
"What?"  
"How can you smile after seeing..Loki?"  
Though she keeps her smirk on her face, her eyes cloud over. "I've seen worse."  
"Speak for yourself Red."  
"If you're not going to do anything productive about the situation, then stop sulking over it."  
"What the fuck am I supposed to do?"  
"If you can't figure it out, then you can't think about it."  
He squints at her, trying to see if she's joking.  
"How?"  
"You're a little smarter than even me, figure it out. You took down S.H.I.E.L.D's walls before. Do it again. Make sure they don't do anything to him."  
Stark quickly glances around, as if he could see the cameras S.H.I.E.L.D set up. "Aren't you worried they'll…"  
"Hear us?" She snickers. "I know better than that. I took down the audio and replaced it."  
~  
Agent Daviau sits at her screen, monitoring all the incoming files on Loki. She still isn't convinced that Loki was faking, as her coworkers were deciding to believe.  
Yes, it's understandable.  
Doesn't mean that it's true.  
The information filters through at an incredibly fast pace, too much for even three people. Their supervisor assigned her team to sort the information that they have, some of it very unsettling, with all the details on his murders.  
She has to give some of that work to Agent Cran, out of the sickness from looking at it.  
~  
Tony gets to work on breaking down S.H.I.E.L.D's new security, which is easy enough. The real problem is to remain undetected. What he is doing can possibly get him arrested and put on Fury's flying circus. That never went well. So as soon as he finds a file to do with his favorite godly brat, he copies it and deletes all-well, some- traces that it ever existed in their database.  
~  
"Oh hell."  
"What is it Alicia?"  
Daviau sighs. "Someone got in. Loki's files are disappearing."  
"I'm literally going to kill them. I have just spent an hour sorting through that asshole's records."  
"Don't, I like having you do my work."  
"You're hilarious. Call in a yellow alert."  
~  
Loki is trapped.  
Literally and figuratively.  
Trapped within a nightmare, clawing at his brain, that doesn't know what to do. It just sends more venom, swimming in it, smothering him with it's darkness.  
Frigga smiles at him, while telling him he is unwanted. How weak he is.  
"Oh Loki. No one loves a Jotun." She touches his face with hands weathered from magic and battle. "I gave you the courtesy of faking love, and you murdered me."  
He tries to scream, to plead with her to stop saying these true things, but he grasps at his throat, which is slit.  
Frigga holds up his blade. Blue blood drips from it.  
Suddenly, she isn't there, replaced by the real prince of Asgard.  
Thor looks dejected.  
"Why Loki?"  
Loki tries to ask what he means, but his vocal cords have been severed, but that only angers his not-brother. His face darkly contorts.  
"You wish not to speak to me? Then we will make sure you can't."  
The muzzle is suddenly on him, and he hears laughter. He is in the council room, on his knees, tears streaming down his face, and he knows, he knows why. Finally Loki the Liar has shut his damn mouth. His lips are swollen, and he reaches up to touch the thick thread stitching them together. With horror, he sees his hands are blue, as Asgardian hands start ripping him apart, screaming to kill the son of Laufey.  
Loki wakes up screaming, tears running down his face. The restraints hold him back from shooting up from the cot.  
"I'm sorry, so sorry..."  
He sobs for an increasingly long time, shuddering with remants of the dream. He would shake off the feeling if he could, spiders with needle legs crawling up his back.  
He doesn't care anymore. The mortals have seen some of his weakest points, why the Hel not another?  
When he has at least stopped crying, he notices a tray next to him, filled with food, though its purpose was obviously not to be eaten by him, as he was tied down.  
Mundane, compared to Asgard's punishments.  
Though he is afraid to speak, the dripping dagger stabbing his thoughts, he will not become a complete weakling before his captors. "I'm still waiting for some punishment. I'm actually comfortable here, I'd increase the torture methods."  
Nothing.  
Loki sighs, looking around the bleak room. The dream has thrown him off, so he resumes his sarcastic and egotistical self.  
Norns, what a damn mess he's gotten himself into.


	4. Tap

"Tony I swear to god-"  
"Can't talk right now Rogers, working on doing some illegal things."  
"You're going to get all of us under even stricter watch."  
"Then make..." he pauses for a second, checking he has his copy. "...sure I don't get caught."  
Steve opens his mouth to ask him exactly how no one has killed him yet, but the painfully offhand telling of his time in Afghanistan taps him and tells him that yeah, that's pretty insensitive and stupid to even think.  
His mouth slowly pulls the words back in, as if it were backing away from a predator.  
Instead, he sighs.  
"Fine. What are you doing anyway?" He leans against the workshop table, after carefully inspecting for a spot that wasn't cluttered and greasy.  
"Ummm..."  
"I'll report you to Fury right now."  
Tony makes a whiny noise.  
"I might be deleting S.H.I.E.L.D's records of Loki, and keeping them for blackmail."  
Though he wants to object, Rogers looks off for a bit, thinking about how dark the scene was, Loki lying in a pool of his own blood, lines climbing up his arms, desperate to reach higher. His ink black hair settled around his head, a devil's halo. The hair became even darker with the crimson liquid. How the rageful god finally looked at peace, peace with releasing himself from his life.  
He shudders.  
"Why?"  
"Well, I was talking to Nat, and she did that weird emotional detachment thing. Something about not bitching over a problem you weren't trying to solve."  
"Makes sense. Wait..."  
"Yes, I'm worried about they'll do to him for info. Fury works for the 'greater good' and all that jazz, but he doesn't mind enemy casualties, whether they are currently a threat or not."  
Steve can't deny that.  
"So, you'll only give the files back if they agree not to do anything to him?"  
"Exactly. Sometimes I do have a heart. At least, according to Pep."  
The blonde sits up from the worktable, brushing himself off. Walking towards the doors, the Captain smiles. Though Tony can't see it, he really does do good, he changed a lot from his old self, designing weapons of mass destruction. His first judge of his character was completely wrong.  
"I'll make sure none of these guys catch you."  
The doors silently close behind him, and he makes his way down the hall. Feeling as content as he can, considering the circumstances, he decides to change and make his way to the training gym.  
Those plans are quickly erased, at the security breach alarms scratch the air.  
~  
Loki had been devising ways to get out of the room, but his entire body feels like it's being pinned down.  
He just feels so useless. His wrists are not even able to twist. At the least they hide his failed flaws.  
The room, he decided, is his punishment. There is one window, which is tightly shut and curtains clinging to each other. All of the walls are beige and bare, the floor staring back at him with tainted linoleum. He still is anxious of the machines around him, especially the one that keeps up it incessant beeping. It seems to keep time with his heart, speeding or slowing down at times, but for what reason, is beyond his knowledge.  
Loki deliberately ignores whatever is letting itself into his blood.  
His mind reels with the ridiculousness of all this. Why wouldn't they be beating information out of him by now? All of this waiting just makes his nerves coil around each other, ready to spring at any moment. He'd much rather knowing his real punishment. Allowing him to rest was probably only one phase of his imminent trials. Let him think he is safe, cradle him softly into security, then bash it out of him, telling him how stupid he was for believing that was true.  
The last bit was useless to them, he already knew he clung to affection too easily.  
But betray him, and you will somehow disappear, blades somehow sinking their way into your back, poison caressing your throat, your hair falling in uneven and irritable strands beside your pillow.  
He shakes his head. Sif hadn't betrayed him. Her hair was sheared off in a childish prank. Out of a moment of remorse, he had gotten her new hair, shining bright as the amber rays of the sun. For a few moments after it was put on her head, everyone in the council hall admired it in awe, as it glittered in the surrounding light, casting warm shadows over the room like candlelight. The room grew darker, and chagrin peppered the room. As her hair turned black as his own, his pride and apologeticness left his face, fear and confusion hugging his gut, as if they had missed him for the day he had able to ignore them.  
The needle and thread…  
He is brought out of the memory abruptly.  
Blaring alarms begin to tear at his ears, yellow lights flashing underneath the door.  
~  
As soon as he hears the first ringing of a breach, Steve curses to himself and runs back to Stark's workshop.  
"What did you do?!"  
"I didn't do anything!"  
"Damn it Tony, fix this."  
"Fix what, Captain?" Nick Fury strides into the room, the yellow flashes accentuate the anger in his eye.  
"Sir-"  
"Save it. I just wanna know why the hell, Stark was stealing important files on someone who tried to either kill us or rule us."  
"Alright, alright, easy there Cyclops." Tony steps forward, his hands up in a submissive gesture.  
"Stark-"  
"No, let me finish. It's rude to interrupt people." Crossing his arms, he waits for it to go silent, the blaring of the alarms ignored. "Good. Now, I only borrowed-"  
"Stole."  
"Borrowed those documents on the little shit because you guys have a reputation of doing evil government stuff to prisoners."  
"We were only going to interrogate him."  
"Fury, we all know what that actually means. Doing something like that to Loki would fucking tear him apart."  
"Tear him apart? What the actual hell are you talking about?"  
"So you don't believe the fucking reports that I had to fill out?"  
"Sir, you assigned me to do that."  
"Jarvis, you are not helping."  
The director progressively fills the room with his discontent. "No."  
Steve looks at him with wild confusion. "What?!"  
Fury keeps his eyes on Stark. "With his behaviour in the past, I have no reason to believe that he would something that stu-"  
Tony laughs maliciously, all his cool demeanor of before boiling away into steam. "Before you finish that, I'm gonna pretend that I'm not about to make you fully blind."  
Still reeling from Fury's disbelief, Cap turns to Tony slowly. "Don't make this worse."  
"I won't." He winks at Steve, causing the latter to roll his eyes. "You can get the files back, under a couple of conditions." He lists them off on his hand. "One, no 'interrogating' Loki. Two…" Stopping for a moment, he tries to think of something that would both piss off Fury and help Loki. "He stays at the tower-"  
"Absolutely not."  
"Let me finish. He stays at the tower, as long as there is at least one person there to keep watch. If there isn't, then he comes back here for as long as we are gone. Three, no calling all of us on assignment just so you can get him. And try to contact Thor."  
"What's stopping me from calling someone down here to get the files?"  
"I'll cut funding. Also taking all the things I have designed for you guys."  
"God damn it Stark."  
"Hm, I could call Pepper right now and about half of your funds would be gone."  
"Fine. When the hell do you want him at the tower?"  
~  
Tapping the arms of the cot he is restrained to bores him to no end, but it's the only thing that blocks out these damned alarms.  
Sighing, his chest is a rainy day, damp and heavy and dark. His heart stubbornly keeps beating, though it feels like hooks grip at it, every time it pulses, ripping larger holes in it. The only thing he wishes he could do right now is rip it out, watch it come to rest on this dust ridden floor. Coating it's muscle with dirt, like the cooks used to season meat in the kitchens. Gazing how the blood spattered around it with a hard smack. He wonders briefly if it has holes in it, like he imagines.  
It's useless to him.  
All his heart does is cause unnecessary pain.  
His knuckles go white gripping the ends of the arm rests, before resuming their rhythm.  
Tap, tap, tap.  
Beating like his bitter and unwanted heart.  
He notices vaguely that the flashing lights have stopped along with the annoying blare of the alarms.  
Silence.  
Except for his tapping.  
"Loki Laufeyson?"  
The tapping stops, as he is startled. There is no one in the room…  
"Loki Laufeyson, you will be retrieved from this station."  
Retrieved?  
As if he were a tool…  
Bring about an alliance, bring about permanent peace... through you.  
Tap. Tap. Tap.


	5. Almost

Loki tenses, as a buzzing noise makes itself known before the door handle is moved.  
It is apparently time to be _fetched._ Sitting up as straight as he can, he pastes a face of annoyance and boredom over the one of anger and fear.  
A man, dressed in black and lightly armed speaks.  
"I'm here to take you out of the facility."  
"Wonderful."  
The man comes over slowly, further making Loki grind his teeth.  
He snaps at him. "Will you get on with it? My wrists hurt."  
No response. The agent finally makes his way to the right of the bed and takes off the restraint. Relief spurs on through Loki, but before he can rub his wrist with his bound hand to get feeling back into it, his 'escort' snatches his arm, callused fingers causing friction against yet to heal marks.  
"Ah!-could you possibly be any rougher?" He knows he is only picking at agitation in this mortal, but pain is not to be shown in front of enemies, no matter how he has to hide it.  
Which is why his mind screams insults endlessly when his breath catches. The escort turns his arm over, exposing many nights of failed composure. Blank-faced, he looks at the tube running itself into Loki's flesh.  
"Don't. Move."  
"As if I could." The trickster is able to draw these words out of his mouth along a steady string. Looking back at him, the man heads towards the door.  
He tries to steady his gasping as the mortal leaves. Why hadn't he expected that? His stunted breath barely levels itself before his unwanted company comes back with... bandages. It worries him that he would need them.  
Gripping his arm again, the man pinches the base of the tube.  
Loki hardly has time to wonder what is going on, before it is pulled out without ceremony.  
He screams. Quick and sharp, a papercut on the air around them. Just as fast, the bandage is found wrapping around where it was.  
"W-what was in that thing?" Loki doubts that they would let him know if it was poison, but he'll be able to decide from the lie this mortal tells him what it really was.  
"Temporary blood replacement."  
"What?"  
"You lost a significant amount of blood after...what you did."  
He wants to snarl, rip this idiot's throat out while he kept him alive with sorcery, all the while laughing and spitting in his face. Instead, he clenches his jaw, tight as wires holding them together. Of course they would want him to live, they can't let such an amazing opportunity go to waste.  
His other hand is released and he is oh, so tempted to fulfill the fantasy he has conjured. It will only make things worse in the long run for him though, so represses those bright burning thoughts.  
"While you are moved, you cannot see the facility, so you will be blindfolded."  
"What a thoughtful gift. I'll no longer have to look upon your face."  
Grunting, the man yanks Loki up, using more force than necessary to tie the blindfold. Handcuffing the silver-tongue, he leads him with a small chain hooked to the right cuff.  
Vision gone black, Loki notices that he is only dressed in thin robe, barefoot.  
That means that they have seen them all then. All his scars, all his cowardly pain. It makes him feel like there are rivers of slime running down his spine, to know they saw him nude. Choking on another thought, he grasps through his mind as blindly as he currently is, for the hope he hadn't lost enough energy to revert to Jotun form. No doubt S.H.I.E.L.D loves to find species it doesn't know fully about and cut them up, dig around quite literally for answers. A bubble of anxiety finds itself in his stomach, and decides it a nice home. Desperate for distraction and some destination, he inquires,  
"Where am I being 'relocated?"  
"Stark Tower."  
A couple of seconds make their way past Loki, before he nearly trips from being yanked forward. He must have stopped out of shock.  
Shock that is well founded.  
Stark has either lost his mind, or they want to allow him some, some revenge.  
Stumbling along, on terror and chains, there's nothing that could convince him that there was anything he had to live for.  
~  
"Look, just try not to say anything stupid when he's here alright?"  
"He'll be lucky if I don't strangle him the minute he walks through the door."  
Tony drags his hands down his face. "Clint, please don't be a jackass today. If you want, you can leave the tower until he's in his room."  
"Nah."  
"Why?"  
"If he tries anything, I want to be the one to beat his ass."  
"Dear fucking god."  
Natasha walks in the kitchen from the hallway. "So, Loki's going to be staying here?"  
"Yeah, that would be the plan if Clint could not kill him."  
Pouring herself coffee, she takes a sip before saying, "Being used isn't very fun. Most people that used me are dead now. Only reason the rest aren't is because I stopped doing what they wanted."  
"I know, and Clint, you have a damn good reason to want to kill him. But I did not almost get my ass handed to me in gold plating by Fury just so you could strangle Loki on the first day he is here."  
"He tries anything, and he's dead."  
"Fine. Jesus christ Nat, how can you drink black coffee?"  
Romanoff chuckles before taking a long drink as she walks out.  
She wishes she would be the one taking Loki to the tower. No doubt they would send someone with a grudge against him, they'd be lucky if he got here conscious. Sighing, she makes her way to the over extravagant entertainment room. Claiming 'her' chair again, Natasha kicks up in it sideways, her legs swinging over the edge. Reaching for the remote, she clicks the T.V on for ambiance. Far from focusing on it, she knows that being around Loki at all today would be an awful idea. The last thing he needs right now is to remember how she put him in his place, however satisfying it was. That isn't a problem, it's too easy to avoid people for her.  
Clint is the issue.  
If he didn't restrain himself, Loki would be dead within the hour and S.H.I.E.L.D would be on their backs about wasting such great potential for new research.  
There's no way to just tell someone to just get over something like that though. Unless you are an ignorant jerk.  
"What are you watching?" Bruce walked into the room, groggy and hair a mess, tapping away notes into his Stark Tablet.  
"Horrible reality T.V."  
"Hm. Mind if I join you? I have some things to work on."  
"Not at all." Drinking from her cup, she closes her eyes, trying to get a handle on the situation. After a few moments, she opens her eyes again."What do you think about Loki coming here?"  
His movements stop for a slight moment, before setting the tablet down beside him. "It's not ideal. Better than him staying on the Helicarrier though."  
"Yeah. I just have no idea how to keep Clint from slicing his throat the minute he steps in the tower."  
"I hate to sound like Tony here but...we'll have to wing it. Hope that he won't."  
"Ugh."  
"I know."  
~  
Loki remains quiet for the rest of the trip. He wants to save his voice, for who knows how long it would be until it was trashed into nothing.  
In short-he is terrified.  
His time with the Chitauri is dim and faded, but he knows from his nightmares what happened. Memories sear his mind as hot as the brands they burned him with. Sometimes he thinks he still feels the red metal.  
With his vision blocked for the moment, he is utterly vulnerable. For all Loki knows, he might not be even be 'relocating' anywhere. They could be toying with him, to use against him later.  
Ice cold shivers drip their way down his back.  
"Five minutes till arrival." Loki jumps at the new voice. He hadn't known she was on the transport, which makes him wonder how many others are present.  
"Looks like I'll finally get rid of you." His escort sits next to him, and he scoffs.  
"I'll miss you dreadfully." He'll definitely miss this, at least knowing he is at the moment, safe.  
"God I hate you."  
Loki smiles genuinely. "Most people do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I removed a small part of this chapter, I realized it was very insensitive and ignorant. This was written a long time ago, but it doesn't excuse that


	6. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ^^ (realizes i forgot to post other chapters here after nearly a week)  
> I usually try to update at least once a month. Which is awful, but it's what I can do right now, being busy* and all.  
> *read, crying over nothing

"10 seconds till arrival. Get ready to get off." The female voice speaks to his escort again.  
"Will do."  
"Finally." Loki drawls, though his heart is beating so fast he wonders if that is what is causing his shaking.  
Fear holds onto his heart like a child holding the hand of their parent, clenched tight and determined not to let go. His stomach climbs it's way to his heart, becoming uncomfortable and shooting up to his throat. It's suffocating him.  
"Alright, I can take this off now." Loki tenses as the man reaches back to his head and unties the blindfold. As the fabric falls, he quickly surveys around himself. The aircraft is dark, small, and painfully metallic.  
He notices that there is no one else on the metal benches protruding from the walls.  
"Where is that woman?"  
"Huh?" Gathering the duffel bag he had apparently brought, his escort was distracted.  
Sighing, Loki speaks as if to a child. "The woman. Who was speaking. Informing us of how long it would take?"  
A small flush bursts on his cheeks as the agent muffles a laugh. "S-she wasn't here. She was on my communicator."  
How did I miss this one? Loki clenches his teeth, wishing he had spotted this agent the last time he was on Midgard. It would have been nice to crush his throat.  
"It has been ten seconds, yes?" He is about to kill this idiot, who is still chuckling to himself.  
"Yeah. Let's go. Want to bring her too?"  
You would think that he had lost his mind the way he laughs. Instead of risking further punishments that the ones he is already condemned to, he resigns with rubbing his hands raw, clenching his jaw so tight it's a wonder his teeth don't crack.  
The hull opens, the blinding sun washing over him and making him sick.  
Once he adjusts to the light, chained hands lower from his face, his shaking becoming worse. This is where he stabbed Thor. Where he landed in a crater made by a green monster. The place he had been utterly defeated.  
They are brilliant, he will give these mortals as much. Not only beat him within seconds from dying, but where he was most humiliated.  
Oh, how clever. Loki tells himself this as he is pulled forward. For a brief moment, he wonders if he moves fast enough, if he can jump off the roof.  
~  
"Alright guys, this is it. Please don't cause any death, and it'll be very appreciated." Tony beams at the rest of the team, but they are all watching behind him. Smile falling, he turns around.  
Someone leads Loki by a chain connected to cuffs.  
Loki looks sick.  
Physically as well as mentally. Not to mention the state he is in, only a thin hospital gown for cover. He stumbles behind the man leading him, like a dog.  
Loki seems confused for a moment before making eye contact through the window. His eyes flit from each of their faces, not lingering for too long-before coming to the archer's. The stare he gives is hollow, and deadened.  
Clint starts stuttering. "Ah-dear g-god," his breath is being stolen from him, "I can't be out-t here right n-now."  
Natasha immediately makes her way to Clint's side. "Clint. I need you to breathe okay? Leave if you need to."  
Hands on his knees, he looks straight at her. "No! I'm letting him win if I leave!"  
"Clint. Do what you want, but you need to breathe."  
Clint tries to tie his thought back into his brain. Everything is off, nothing is right. Loki is supposed to be gone, he's supposed to be okay.  
"Nat I-"  
"Go."  
He doesn't want to, he wants to smugly smile in Loki's face as he walks in. To show him that he didn't ruin him, didn't even phase him. That Loki is the weak one.  
Now he knows, that one of those proves to be a lie, the other proved as a truth.  
Clint's mind is ruined, and Loki is weak. At least, now he is.  
The feeling in his gut, the one seeking retribution, rises. Settling his breathing, he slowly stands straight.  
"I'm fine."  
Of course, no one believes him. They don't comment on it.  
Loki isn't even looking in their direction anymore. Dangerously staring at the edge of the roof instead.  
~  
He considers it, mulls it over in his mind. It wouldn't be hard. This damned agent is so distracted right now that it would be all too easy.  
How far up was the top of the tower?  
The fall would at least bring him close to death. Any closer than right now would be wonderful. On more fall couldn't hurt.  
Instead, his jaw creaks from clenching it together as he again is led like a dog towards the tower. There's no escape now.  
His blood boils with anger as his incompetence, and fear, of what is to come.


	7. Uncomfortable

Bruce watches as the S.H.I.E.L.D agent hands over Loki roughly, the latter snarling at him as if he was rabid.  
"Jesus, calm down, would you?"  
"Yes, calm down. Sounds like a fool's decision in my... ah, predicament?"  
The man ignores the god. Turning to Stark, he pulls some papers from somewhere inside his jacket.  
"Alright, this is all the paperwork for keeping this asshole here." He holds them at arm's length, desperate to no longer have anything to do with this. Bruce has to muffle a laugh as Tony splutters.  
"Fury didn't say anything about paperwork!"  
"You thought you were just going to keep public enemy number one here without any official say in it?"  
"Well, yeah."  
"Look, I want to get out of here as much as you want me gone. Just take them and we'll be done for now." His jaw shifts under muscle, keeping a yell at bay.  
Snatching the documents, Tony mumbles. "Believe me, I want it more." Thumbing through them, he breathes a laugh. "How many pages are there?"  
"Thirty six." The guy grows more impatient, tapping his fist on his thigh.  
"Honestly."  
Bruce steps forward and clears his throat. "Is that it?"  
Studying his nails, the man speaks like it were obvious. "Yep."  
"Then leave." He's tired of this agent, rude and unprofessional.  
"Alright, of course Dr. Banner." Rolling his eyes, his arms cross over his chest. "And Mr. Stark?"  
"Hm?" Still shaking his head with half of the papers in each hand.  
"Director Fury doesn't want your AI to fill them out this time."  
The genius shifts the documents to his left grip and puts three right fingers up. "Scout's honor."  
"I'm sure."  
~  
Loki can't settle his breathing.  
He will kill everyone in this room if he is forced to stay a minute longer.  
Though he will not allow his facade to fall now, after everything.  
He offers his hands forward. "Would you mind taking this off?" Tilting his head with a smirk. "Don't you trust me?" It feels like a mockery of a pushed down past.  
"Cool it, we're not doing anything until you're in your rooms, chambers or whatever the hell you want to call it." Stark won't meet his eyes. There's perhaps some churning in his stomach, of the terror he will eventually subject Loki to.  
"I'm tired." He doesn't just mean from lack of rest.  
With far too much understanding, Natasha speaks. "We know."  
Loki sneers, "And what would a insignificant whore know about a god?"  
There's a moment of stale silence, before Romanoff lunges at him.  
~  
"Christ Steve! Let go of me!"  
"Natasha!"  
"What?!" Her red hair seems to be on fire.  
Gripping her shoulders, the captain looks into her eyes and grounds her. "Loki loves to rile people up. He's the God of Mischief."  
"Mischief doesn't have to involve petty insults."  
Loki pulls back slightly. Natasha shrugs off Steve as she spits in Loki's face. "You are going to respect me as you would anyone else. No excuses. No wiggle room."  
Regret blooms across his face, before his mask is slapped back on. "Of course."  
~  
What he said doesn't sit right with him, but Loki won't feel remorse.  
His lies are well crafted. What he says without thought is all from the heart.  
More lies. It never was as easy to lie to himself.  
After that whole disaster, Stark leads him to his glorified cell. It isn't far from where he entered, he supposes it was easily accessible from anywhere on this level of the building.  
He's brought down hallways either cluttered with designs, or bare and bleak. Silence. Only the slight pound of his bare feet on the rough carpet, along with the synchronized steps of the billionaire. The weight of everything is finding his shoulders.  
They stop before the door.  
Tony turns to him, the key pointed at him.  
"Alright. We're going to set some ground rules."  
"Exciting."  
No gaming mood for Stark today, apparently, as his jaw locks with tension"Shut up and listen. Once we get in there, I'll take off these cuffs. You don't leave this room unless someone comes and escorts you. When you are out of this room, you are in sight of at least two people. If at any time all of us are gone, you go back into S.H.I.E.L.D custody."  
Loki's throat doesn't allow any words for a moment. Just one awful fate for another.  
He brings his center of gravity to his chest, broadening it. "Easy enough." The effect is lost with the thin gown.  
The other man scoffs. "Sure. Coming from you, I have a little trouble believing that." Digging out a card from his back pocket, a card is in his hand. Stark holds it up to a panel next to the door, a small beep coming from the door.  
A painfully bland room. Blank, emotionless.  
A little like Loki. If it weren't for the bright light bleaching the room. It comes from the windows, dust sparkling through each beam.  
Laughing without mirth, he looks down. "Quite roomy. For a prisoner, I suppose."  
Tony won't look at him. He waves the comment off, "Yeah, yeah, shut up. Meals will be brought to you. Oh, and uh..." He scratches the back of his neck, eyes wandering to the ceiling for answers.  
"What?"  
"Later we can uh... you need actual clothes, we'll get your measurements later."  
"I-I...why?"  
Stark gets a strange look on his face before leaving without a word.  
~  
Loki has been standing in the same spot for fifteen minutes. He doesn't need actual clothes, why for? Stark is going to bring him to every burning edge of pain, he won't need luxuries.  
Unless it's another trick. Another comfort to be stolen from him. At his own fault.  
Like Frigga.  
Gnashing his teeth, he sits on the pale covers on the bed. His head finds itself between his palms, as the tasteless tensity in the air thickens.  
The Prince of Failure. The God of Lies. The God of Evil.  
He doesn't deserve anything. Yet, he deserves punishment. He shouldn't be allowed death.  
Though, of course, he's always been a coward, hasn't he? Saving his own skin before anyone else, now searching the simple way to escape from his consequences.  
Selfish. Loki only cares for himself, seeking what's best for him. And now, that's seeing Hela.  
He doesn't deserve his daughter. His body losing all signs of his wretched life. Vaguely, he wonders what they would do with his body.  
Straightening, his right hand ghosts over his left forearm. A glamour covers his scars now, but he can still feel the raised lines if he lets enough of the illusion fade. His hand moves to the outline of his lips, where they were sewn shut, all those years ago.  
Across the bed, there is a full length mirror. He's a bit thinner than he should be. Where is that light that had always filled his eyes in youth?  
Everything that has ever been special about him, anything that made him more than the lesser prince, has all lost it's luster. Nothing about him is worth anything. Standing, Loki walks to the mirror.  
Disgusting.  
A morbid curiosity fills his gut, and he peels the first layer of his glamour away.  
He wishes he'd at least feel the revulsion he should. But the unwanted Jotun runt no longer feels anything. Only a fog clouding what he once felt so passionately.  
Scars, all over his arms, hip bones, and around his lips. The first ones he'd ever sustained.  
For as much as he can't feel, the memory of rough thread tearing his flesh is still very vivid.  
Now that he's pulled back some of his illusion, there's a certain haziness about him that he can't exactly place. So he shifts another out of the way.  
Looking down, he screams.  
His skin is blue.


	8. Cold

The counter is cold against his palms.

"Sir?"

Tony's head whips up. "Yeah, Jarv?"

"I thought it might be of note-"

He takes in a shudder, tasting metal. "Come on, no need to drag it out."

"Ms. Potts previous room has dropped to negative forty degrees."

That gets him to stand. "What?!"

"I'm sorry sir, I can't see why."

"But Loki-" He hadn't calibrated Loki into the system yet.

He hadn't even cleared out the room.

"Alright, I'll go in there as soon as I get one of my suits. I'm not freezing my ass off to see if 'public enemy number one' is doing anything stupid."

~

Loki's skin is blue and nothing is right.

Scratches are digging their nails into this disgusting flesh. So many raised lines, the ones of the royal blood line, the lines of a coward, the new ones that communicate that _he is a monster, he needs to die._

His terror is so great that it keeps every other emotion at bay.

He fell to the ground when he first saw that hint of color, of the ocean depths, depths he would drown himself in if given the chance. Curling in on himself, he can't breathe, he's scratching his chest raw, and he can't even feel it.

Ice spirals out from him, crawling along the floor, climbing up the walls and that damned mirror.

The room is as cold as his heart.

~

"Nat!" Tony's just gotten to getting his suit on, and he makes the only good decision of the day-calling Natasha.

It takes a few moments before she responds. "What's up, Daddy Warbucks?"

"Too creepy for my taste, but I need you to come with me."

"Where?"

"Loki's room, the temperature dropped to negative forty. Still dropping."

"Woah, alright. Meet you there in five?"

"In three."

~

Clint sits against the window sill, holding his mug emptied of coffee.

He can't think.

His heart beats, but it's covered with cotton. It's always like this.

That fog.

And Loki's broken through it.

The memories are trudging through, squinting in the mist. Desperate, to remind Barton, that he murdered good people. Some of which were his friends.

He killed them. Without remorse. No feeling.

Loki arriving, maniacal and buzzing with energy. Barely speaking and enjoying the fear.

Making Clint his slave.

He's tired.

There's no more coffee and he still doesn't move.

~

"Ah-Don't touch the door!"

"What?"

Tony sighs. "It's frosted over Red."

"Well, yeah. It shouldn't be that bad, should it?"

He only shakes his head. The chill reaches him even from inside his suit, brisk, and tingled like mint. Really uncomfortable and disorienting.

Natasha being immune to it, isn't a surprise. He doesn't know all of the specifics, but he knows that the Red Room was brutal, on par with his worst nightmares. Mixing his terrors with the experience of little girls makes his brain prickle with the same squeamish cold.

"I'll open it. Don't want your black coffee soul to freeze over."

"Quite the comedian Mr. Stark."

"Wow, that just gave me flashbacks to when you were _Natalie."_

"Just open the door smart ass."

Snickering, he makes sure levels inside his suit are stable. His eyebrows furrow when he still feels cold.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"How cold is it in there?"

"Negative sixty degrees Fahrenheit, and dropping."

The spy smirks sidelong at him. "And you thought bringing me was a good idea."

"Look, just stay outside the door. Which looks like the inside of a cold vending machine."

"I'm shocked you've ever used one."

"Well, there's five in the rec room. You're distracting me."

"Because it's a horrible idea to go in there."

"Also a horrible idea to leave Loki in there. I-I hadn't exactly cleaned out Pepper's things."

A cloud passes over the sun, dropping along with the mood, and Natasha's grin. "You have about two minutes to get him out of there before I go in there to beat your ass."

Gulping, "Got it," along with nerves, he flashes his card before the panel, which thankfully still works.

The door clicks open.

~

Loki would give anything to shiver. To feel cold, to shake off this skin.

His tears freeze on his eyelashes. The heat of his insides are burning him. Ice around him bites into his thoughts, reminding him of what he is.

Not even the sun will shine on him. It fades from sight, leaving his ice cloudy.

Cracks are appearing in the mirror.

~

Tony steps in, the cold seeping in. For once, he doesn't break the silence without thought. Loki is on the ground, back facing him. He hopes that his blue skin is the cause of all of this, rather than him freezing to death.

"'ey, Loki?"

_"Leave."_

This already is out of his league. He doesn't want to deal with this guy, he doesn't need another problem to climb out of him at night.

"Look, I _really_ don't know what this is about, but I think I deserve an explanation."

All he gets in return is a small glare, Loki barely turning his body. Red, eyes red as blood on the battlefield. Red that catches in Tony's throat.

"I told you to _leave._ You all insist mortals are an intelligent species, yet lack the common sense to run from a _monster?"_ Loki's voice is as sharp as the shattering edges of the mirror. Cutting right through Tony's suit, exposing everything about him. The dizzy feeling returns. His breath comes in small puffs of air, which he can see from the brisk room.

"Monster?"

The laugh he's given back ices his blood over. It's twisted and faint, running through fields of brambles and out of the god's throat.

"A damn Jotun, is what I really am. A fake, an imposter, a ghost of what should have died." Tony braces himself, as Loki begins to push himself up. He still faces away from him, but he sees a clouded over reflection of his side in the mirror. A face wrought with agony, of blazing eyes the color of fire, roses, beautiful and deadly. "That fool Odin made a mistake that day. As you made a mistake to stay."

A glance thrown behind Loki's shoulder, a smile hiding a trickster, is all the warning a man in a metal suit gets, before being blasted with ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i like making everyone hurt and miserable~


	9. Shiver

Natasha huffs impatiently, smirking at the cloud of chilled breath. Tony has about two more minutes, before his careless mistake comes to bite him in the ass. Namely, her punching in his ego. Crossed arms, a roll of the eyes every few seconds. Voices murmuring from inside tells her that it's alright for the time being. Ice cracks, thread thin marks in the door appear. Though it's shocking, the most that Romanoff shows is a slight raise of her eyebrows. Seconds pass by, brushing her as they pass, whispers of uncertainty. Her lips tighten into a line, an off sensation in the air.

Something in the atmosphere shifts, almost a change in gravity. The spy's skin prickles, heavy air settling on it, giving a slimy and thick feeling. Moving like in a dream, she hears the murmuring grow louder.

Natasha's panicked voice strains over her earpiece, calling the rest of the team for help, as Tony slams through the door.

~

In his room sketching, Steve worries over their new situation. It was a rash decision, made by Tony on heightened emotions.

That's what he'd like to think.

It still was off putting to see Loki looking somehow worse than the first security footage of him on Earth, and even then, the Captain was protected from the personal aspect by a screen.

Focusing on other things besides form practice, causes many mistakes. Furiously erasing, scratching with his pencil the only sounds in his room. Each time it was marred by his thoughts of other things. Wrong proportions, too many lines, eraser crumbs littering the page. Giving up, he tosses the book to the floor. The space silences around him, muffled street noise outside his windows.

Then he hears Natasha's stricken call from his nightstand. Scrambling from his chair, he digs the earpiece from the drawer. "Nat?!"

"I don't know what's wrong, get down to Loki's room now-" She's cut off from a crash, wood snapping from some unseen weight, before fizzling out.

"Damn it! Clint, Banner, you getting this?"

Barton responding first with a breathless 'yeah,' Bruce following suit, Steve's voice stiffens in command. "Meet me down at Loki's room as soon as possible, and faster than that. We have no idea what's going on down there right now. Where's Tony?"

"No idea Cap. I'm heading there now." Snaps of a bow string rattle through.

"I'll be there soon." Bruce sighs, obviously not wanting the Hulk to emerge.

~

As soon as the wood splinters, Natasha throws herself to the side, crouching and holding her head. Five seconds later and she would have been crushed by Iron Man, the suit iced over.

"I might have made him mad." Tony breathes.

"Just because I said I would kick your ass, doesn't mean you need to find a way out of it!"

"I'm going to ignore that and hope you have a way to get Loki under control?"

"Unbelievable."

"I'd get out of the way, my suit isn't doing too well from this ice."

Heads turned to the doorway, now blocked by thick ice, warped and blue wavering with it, due to the grey sky. Leaving Loki to himself.

"Tony, how high up are we?"

"High enough, that he'll die if he jumps out the fucking window."

~

That's not Loki's plan. At least what he wants.

He just wants to be left alone, to sleep. The trickster knows he can't, with the mirror shattered, himself standing among reflections of a monster. His veins itch for their edge, but he doesn't deserve this, this easy way out, a coward's way.

Hela would surely mock him if he showed at her doors in that state.

~

The creak of string pulling taut lets them know Clint has arrived.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just this drama queen freezing over the door." Tony pushes himself up, awkward movement in the suit.

Hawkeye turns to what used to be an opening. "Jeez."

"Yeah, no kidding. Before we do anything, I've got to get him calibrated in the system."

"You hadn't done that?" Groaning as he pulls up Natasha.

"I'm an idiot, I know. Jarv?"

"Sir?"

"The new guy, put him in your system. Loki, what the hell was it, Laufeyson?"

The AI goes silent, the stillness and tight air closing on them. Tony lifts his faceplate, brow furrowed. "Jarvis?"

A short and low screech comes instead of the familiar voice. "I'm sorry sir, he doesn't seem to be human."

"Oh Jesus- Run program 41, and hurry with it."

"No need to rush."

"There's a little reason."

This time, they hear a ping!, Jarvis pleasantly speaking. "Loki Laufeyson is in the database. Any restrictions?"

"Engage the saftey on all of the windows." The end of the command is almost not heard, a rumbling down the hallway muffling it.

~

He's changed his mind.

The scorn of Hel would be better than this, and he makes his way over to the windows, Loki has had enough. He smiles, serenely walking to them.

Metal slides over them, faster than he can think. Shocked, he pounds on them, punching for a weak point, knuckles becoming bloody, dripping along his scarred arms.

Mirror shards will have to do.

~

Rumbling growing louder, the three look at each other before getting out of the way, Hulk clambering in front of the door.

Tony steps toward him, "Hey buddy, think you can break this ice?" Heavy breathing, then a nod. Slowly backing away with Clint and Natasha, he watches as the beast launches a fist deep into the thick frozen barrier, rattling the trio's teeth.

Steve rounds the corner, breathing deeply. "Glad to see you're all here. Everyone okay?"

Natasha shakes her head. "Us, yeah, not Loki."

A want to say that Loki isn't anyone he was referring to has to be shoved aside. The Hulk has gotten through, the team filing into Pepper's old room. To Loki holding a piece of broken glass to his right arm, his weak smiled reflected on it.


	10. Breath

Loki freezes, looking up at the world's mightiest heroes, staring right back at him in horror.

He's a Jotun, and Midgard's heroes are witnessing it, in it's full disgusting view. Fist clenching the broken shard, crimson liquid almost glowing as fire, trailing it's way down his ocean blue skin, contrasting like the elements.

There's a thousand openings for him to attack, escape, but with being seen like this, and the Hulk so close, he doesn't want to take his chances. The green beast breathes heavily, large lungs contracting.

"I suppose formalities are at a loss now." Voice raw but slow like honey. It could have been done, he could've been gone.

"Loki...drop it." Clint sets his bow on the ground, slinging the quiver down as well. Hands raised in peace, the rest stare at him. He should be the last person trying to help Loki.

"Why should I do that, Barton? You hate me, don't you? If there's anyone who deserves death, it's me. Kill me now, and you get your revenge." He's reaching for it, higher than he could imagine.

"You don't."

Poised in a wary manner, Loki's voice shrinks. "Don't what?"

"You don't deserve it. I may hate you, hell, I want to punch you so hard you forget your own name, but you don't deserve this."

The god's arms fall to his side, the broken glass clinging to his hand in the cuts made before clicking on the floor.

"What is left for me then? I have no purpose to any of you, or myself." His breath stutters and he takes a breath. "I'm stuck in this skin until I find a way back, or I die. Even then, I'd be left with it."

"There's a million reasons to live. Right now, let's make yours finding one." With the knowledge that Loki could likely kill him with a touch, he reaches out his hand, in question of a chance.

Loki looks lost, but there's no mistaking the small sob of relief, as he lifts the hand clear of blood to an archer just as lost as him.

~

There's a small council held inside Miss Potts' old room, Clint disappeared along with Bruce, who had shrunk down. They speak in hushed voices, Loki sitting on the bed blankly, still in his blue form that he refuses to explain. They stand near the mirror, broken pieces crunching under their feet like autumn leaves, not having to worry about the blocked windows.

"-obviously we can't leave him alone."

Steve rolls his eyes, "Thanks, Tony, for the new information."

"Listen pal, neither of you two are saying anything, why don't-"

Natasha playfully pushes him, "Alright, calm down Stark. Look, we have one of the worst situations we could deal with right now, but you two going at it never helps."

The engineer opens his mouth to defend himself, before popping it closed and nodding his head.

She continues, "We're gonna keep an eye on him, no leaving him alone. With us at all times. Until we can convince him to get therapy or something."

They test it on their pallete, tasting bitter. Steve huffs, "Best plan we have, not in the long-run, but we'll figure something out."

Tony pulls his face into a pout, slumping. "Aw, this means I can't sneak away to the lab when everyone's being an idiot."

"Quit acting childish. I shouldn't have been messing around in the first place." Pulling her straight red hair into a ponytail, she drops all signs of amusement.

"'No fun allowed', Natasha Romanoff."

"I doubt Loki's having fun."

Stuck in his position of mockery, Tony lets the extent of the events hit him. "Okay, wow, this one time I'm going to listen to you the first time you tell me."

They stand uneasy, before looking at the god.

"It definitely won't be fun telling him that."

~

They obviously don't know he can hear them.

Loki listens to every word, advanced hearing making it hardly a challenge. He catches every soft breath, every grunt. So he already knows his fate, before they call his name. He plays innocent, just to toy with them.

"Yes?"

"Look, you're not going to like this..." Stark scratches the back of his neck, looking to the ceiling. Loki takes note of it.

His head tilts, and he feels a smirk behind the veil he makes. "What, Stark?"

Natasha gives the inventor a disappointed glance before speaking, "After...this, we had to think of a way to keep you _safe_." She puts emphasis on the last word, likely meaning _not letting you be weak, a failure. Safe_ , is a word Loki hasn't used to describe his surrounding since before he egged Thor on to Jotunheim. Not before his disgusting nature was shown true.

"...And you've all decided to lock me away, what you should've done when I first came? Finally make use of me?" He's already chosen a path because of the archer, but this is much more fun.

The Captain interjects quickly, "No, no! Of course not, didn't we just say we'd help you?"

"Your _Hawk_ said that. You three, however, have no promise holding you."

Tony goes to yell, before Romanoff shoves him back. "No, Loki. That promise applies to all of us."

He lowers his gaze. "I heard your argument, and I despise your plan, almost as much as I hate you."

Natasha and Steve take a step back, almost groaning when Tony moves forward.

Loki stands, "But, seeing as I have no choice, I don't see why not. My opinion doesn't matter in this."

"Loki-" Stark tries to say that of course it matters, but the Jotun glares at him.

"Don't waste your breath."


	11. Adjust

For the first week, it was a bit like having a shadow. Loki sulked. He strayed to the edges of their attention. They almost forgot to worry. Except Clint, who despite giving Loki a chance, distrusted him.

It was time to see if Thor had been contacted. This was the part Tony was dreading, and it might have just somehow slipped his mind, if Loki would give them any answers. There wasn't any hints to why he was blue.

"So Fury, what's the news?" Tony rubs his temple as he talks to the director, waiting for the worst.

"To be honest with you Stark, we've got no idea where the hell this guy is. He just shows up whenever he feels like."

"...Fuck. You'd think that 'Hey, my brother's missing, maybe I should check Earth out to make sure he isn't attacking again,' would be just enough to bring him back."

"I'll call you if we get anything. And Stark?"

"Hm?"

"I know I was harsh, but this goes deeper than we know. I'm sorry about that."

"Yeah, yeah, don't get sappy with me." He hung up, sighing. This just made everything so much easier.

Natasha walks into the kitchen with him, leaning against the counter. "What weight of the world is on your shoulders today?"

"Moody god in my custody that won't explain anything."

"Don't worry, every parent deals with it."

Half heartedly laughing, he hops onto the counter. "Damn, I wish, maybe there'd be articles on it. 'Set up a time to talk with them, assure them it's normal to be blue and murderous.'

The agent chuckles. "Who's cooking today?"

"Thought it was you."

"Man, I was looking forward to some of Clint's breakfast."

Tony deadpans. "You're joking, right?"

"God, of course I am, I love Clint, but his cooking is terrible."

"What're you saying about my cooking?" Clint saunters in, a teasing smile on his face.

"That you're the best at making coffee." Planting a kiss on his cheek, Natasha reaches for the cabinet. "You two set the table while I figure out what the hell I should make. Scratch that, can make."

"Do we have stuff for blinis?" The mechanic asks her as she hands him a plate.

"Probably not. I need about three tries before I can get it right anyways."

"How can you get it wrong? It's like pancakes right?" Clinks of plates sliding into their spot in the dining room mix with the archers calling.

"Maybe the question we should be asking is how you messed up jam on toast."

"Come on, that was one time!"

~

Loki refused to leave his room. He ignored the captain's shouting, the knocks on his door. No, he doesn't care about breakfast, he doesn't care about the rest of them

"Suprisingly, I don't care to parade myself around you pathetic worms." He needs to rest, his whole body is almost drained of it's magic, and with that, his glamour. The god knows they wonder about his appearance, the short glances he is all too aware of. There's no point in leaving this prison. He'll be bored to death by their incessant droning, idle thoughts prettying the air. It makes him sick.

"Loki, please come out of there."

"Rather not. Why are you so insistent? You all obviously loathe my presence, there's no need for me to be out of here."

"We...need to keep an eye on you."

"Stare at the monster, of course."

"That's not...what do you mean?"

"Leave."

"Look, the others-"

"Don't care. Given it was their obligation today, they'd wander off after the first try. No one gives a damn about me, stop forcing yourself to."

"...Fine."

Loki edges a smile on his face, hearing the other leave. It doesn't leave him feeling more empty than before.

Why should it make his skin crawl?

~

Clint stares at the bowl Natasha set in front of him. "What?"

"It's cereal. You might be more used to it burnt to a crisp." Handing a bowl to Tony, she sits down.

"I thought you were cooking."

"Didn't really want to." She pulls him down by his sleeve as he stands up. "You're going to eat today, and you're definitely not going near the stove."

"I'm just-"

"Arguing with her is digging your own grave Barton. Just eat." Tony advises him. Glancing up, he notices Rogers coming in.

Steve rubs his eyes as he walks toward them. "It's more pointless than starting an argument with Loki."

"No luck?"

Yawning, he sits down in one of the empty spaces with a bowl. "I swear, I'm the only one he ever does this to."

"Eh, who knows. I like pissing you off, might be a common thing."

"Alright, before we get into that, any word on Thor?"

"Can't get a hold of him."

Natasha rolls her eyes, "Of course, the only person who can give us any insight on this isn't answering."

"Whatever. If he shows up, perfect, he can apologize later, if he doesn't within the next three days, I'm going to have to get something out of Loki. Especially why he looks like that."

"Like what, Stark?"

They sharply turn to the door, Loki standing with glowing red eyes piercing the conversation. "A monster?"

Tony clears his throat. "You keep saying that."

"It's true." He sighs at the team's raised eyebrows. "You can stop acting surprised when I speak anything but lies. You want the truth?"

Tensing at the proposition, the four look to each other. Steve begins to ask for answers when Loki laughs.

"Stay quiet, Captain. You are incessantly annoying. Almost as much as my bro- T-Thor."

Clint speaks instead. "Alright. Can you tell us Loki?"


	12. Voids

They went silent, Loki looking down at his crossed arms.

He had seemed so detached from the telling of his history, flat voice only hitting a few breaks.

"You can send me back to SHIELD now." Loki's red eyes only fall a little higher, at the table in front of him. His eyebrows press down, he brings his gaze up just an inch. "Say something." Please.

"I think...Loki, that we're just a little in shock. We didn't know it was like that. Thor never told us..." The captain looks away from the god, avoiding the look not even directed at him.

"What time would he have, to tell you? There's no time to set aside for me, for those disgusting like me. He shouldn't have told you this, he is too good for this."

Not noticing the stares stone set on him, the rest puzzled over the fact that Loki had defended Thor, at the expense of himself.

Tony breathes, "Hey, Lokes-"

"Do not call me that."

"Alright, Loki, I know you're in a bad place right now..."

The air almost snaps with the intensity Loki whips his eyes toward the Iron Man. He sneers, "Oh, believe me Stark, that I have been in much darker places."

He lets go of Gungnir.

The cold of the universe envelops him.

"And it's darker within me."

Pulling himself up from the chair, he sneers. They all stare at him with worry, and it makes him so angry. How dare they? He doesn't need their pity.

Loki shoves the table, right into Stark's chest on the opposite end.

Stalking away, he hears swearing as they realize the mess he's made.

His jaw clenches.

~

"Yeah, it's some bullshit. I'll talk to you later Maria, these boys are going to fall into anarchy unless I get back to it. Love you." Natasha sighs as she tosses her phone onto her bed.

That conversation with Loki could have gone a lot smoother. He'd stormed off after sounding so stereotypically evil, and it definitely didn't ease any worries from the team. The drama could be a bit much, and calling a friend hadn't helped at all. If anything, it only brought attention to the flaws in this unfavorable situation.

Groaning, the spy leaves her room. Her stomach won't stop winding itself, feeling like a jack-in-the-box, with a violent spring. Walking around the city might ease those knots.

She rubs her closed eyes, straining to rid of her headache, succeeding only in worsening the compressed pounding on her skull.

Which leaves her unprepared to see Loki sitting in the living room.

"Romanoff."

"Loki." She shifts, far from comfortable, and Loki smirks at the knowledge, that she's dropped the mindset of her training.

"So suprised?"

"To see a sulking god in my spot? Yes. Move it buddy."

He stares in confusion. "Pardon?"

"You're in my spot." Raising an eyebrow, she shoves him from the end of the couch and plops down.

This was... Not the confrontation he had in mind. The man rearranges his awkward posture he'd been thrown in, before frowning.

"I don't supposed it crossed your mind that this god could kill you with a snap of his fingers?"

"Oh, it did. But everyone knows you don't take my end of the couch." Grabbing the remote, she brings the TV to life.

"What in Odin's name is this?!" Alarmed, Loki draws back from the flickering screen.

Natasha nearly howls with laughter, "It's just a TV, Lo."

He pauses in his digust for the images on the unknown screen, barely turning his head to her. "Do not call me that."

"'Kay, just relax," She chuckles, flipping through the channels.

This seemed an environment he would never adjust to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, holy shit, I'm not dead. Hey guys, just wanted to clue u in on the delay- I'm sadly, not in the fandom anymore (and since I cross post in ff.net I forgot to upload here). Tragic, I know. It's just a little hard to work with these characters when you don't have a connection, y'know? Ill try to finish it, or at least bring it to a point where someone else can. Love you nerds ~


	13. The End

I'm sorry, but I've moved on from this story. This is the end of BIS and I'm honestly much happier bc of it. For all the people that followed it, I'm thankful, but it's best to leave it where it is.


End file.
